


anyone who's ever played a part wouldn't turn around and hate it

by bcandmf



Category: True Detective
Genre: F/M, Multi, POV Second Person, two guys and a gal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-03
Updated: 2014-09-03
Packaged: 2018-02-16 01:01:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2250000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bcandmf/pseuds/bcandmf
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Now the blond one's caught you looking. He grins. Takes a sip from his beer, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, starts picking at the label on his bottle, looks back up in your direction. Winks at you. Alright, then.</p>
            </blockquote>





	anyone who's ever played a part wouldn't turn around and hate it

 

You down the last of your beer, got a nice buzz going already.  N ot many people in here. You're debating ordering another one or calling it a day when they walk in together.

The blond one's kind of thick-set, muscular, has a strong jaw, he walks into the bar with a swagger like he fucking owns the place. Scans the room, is clearly here with a purpose or at least wants to make you feel like he is, like you should try and make that purpose  you .

You feel anticipation tingling inside you because sometimes,  _ sometimes _ \- and you try not to think about the Why too hard - that kind of gum-chewing son of a bitch who's probably cheating on his wife and looking for a girl with what he'd call “daddy issues” (of course without realizing that it says more about him than it does about those girls) is exactly what you're looking for. They're usually good fucks, too. Another beer it is, then.

The other one looks around, too, but more like he's scanning the room for snipers. He looks bored and on edge at the same time. Obviously wasn't his idea to come here. They don't look like friends. Not exactly. Work partners, maybe?

And he's beautiful. Sad eyes. He's muscular, too, but in a skinnier, wiry way.

Now the blond one's caught you looking. He grins. Takes a sip from his beer, wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, starts picking at the label on his bottle, looks back up in your direction. Winks at you. Alright, then. It is on and there won't be much talking necessary. Blondie's leaning against the bar, his back turned. He throws you another glance over his shoulder, says something to the other guy. Who just snorts and takes a sip of his beer, not even looking up.

 

On the slightly awkward ride here, Marty and you in the backseat, Rust driving, Marty starts groping you. He's all eager, like a teenager, moaning and kissing your neck, his hands under your skirt, his fingers stroking over the crotch of your panties, touching the thin material there that's already wet, then sucking on his fingers, grinning at you.

Now you're standing in the middle of the room with him, Rust is leaning with his back against the door, watching you both. Up close you notice that Marty has sad eyes, too, but it's too late to think about this guy's life story now, it's not what you're here.

You lick your lips and look up at him, and it has the desired effect. He takes your face in his hands and kisses you again. Warmth, wetness, beer, affection, he learned to kiss in a different time, girls didn't put out that easily when he was your age, he's trying to contain himself, draw this out, though if for your benefit or his own you don't know. Don't care. He's hard in his pants, you press against him and forget about Rust by the door for a moment. Just the sound of Marty and you kissing, soft moans from him. You feel dizzy. His hands wander into your hair. The guy can  _ kiss _ . Boy, can he kiss.

He stops, pulls away, breathing hard. Strokes you through your panties again, hooks a finger under the elastic, pushes inside, surprisingly gently. Throbbing want inside you. You pull your panties down and step out of them.

Marty takes your hand and leads you over to the mattress on the floor. Sits down, pulls you onto his lap, lies back. His dick is straining against the front of his jeans. You rub yourself against his hard-on. He moans and pushes you off, undresses impatiently. There's a wet spot on his jeans where you were rubbing against him. Now he is naked, lies down again, pulls you back on top of him, your knees on either side of him. You kiss him, he's less gentle now. Hungry.

"But what about your friend?", you ask.

"What about him, honey?"

From the corner of your eye you see Rust peeling himself off the door and slowly walking over to the mattress. It dips when he sits down behind you. Marty looks surprised but doesn't protest.

You push yourself up and turn around to face the other guy, still sitting on Marty's lap but with your back to him now. Rust's face is unreadable. He has this vaguely defiant look as if he's secretly judging you, has had it all night, but when you let your hand slide down his gaze follows. You lift yourself off Marty a little, reach between your legs, grab hold of him, let him dip inside you for a second and then stroke your clit with his dick, tease yourself, rub the hard, hot length against your pussy.

Behind you Marty is panting and cursing appreciatively, trying to push into you. Be patient. This is for  _ him _ . Rust looks at you, then back down, and swallows hard.

You guide Marty into yourself again and start fucking yourself on him shallowly without breaking eye contact with Rust. Up and down, up and down, you feel all the nerve endings in your cunt respond. He's big and feels amazing, the way he stretches you even though he's hardly inside you yet. Thick dick, no stupid questions, this is going exactly the way you wanted. Although you didn't plan for a beautiful sad guy sitting right in front you while you're getting it on, and neither did you plan in putting up this little show for him here.

Up and down, up and down. Your thighs are starting to hurt. You want to sink down completely, want to be fucked properly, but you don't want to just turn around and leave Rust alone in the back, alone in the dark again, you want to look at him, want him to look at you, see him swallow like that again.

You grab him by his shirt, pull at it. He takes it off obligingly, takes off his pants, too. Behind you, Marty chuckles. “Took you long enough.”

You abruptly slide down on Marty's dick all the way and that shuts him right up. A string of curse words follows, encouraging you.

You fuck yourself on him a little faster, enjoy the stretch and pull of it. Rust doesn't move, just kneels in front of you, watches silently, completely still. He looks up at you, then suddenly spits in his hand, his left hand, you notice, and starts jacking himself off right there. Slow, deliberate strokes. Strong arms, veins, a look on his face that is both bliss and helplessness, like he hasn't had this in a long time and doesn't enjoy giving in, but can't help it. Silence except for the slick sound of flesh sliding against flesh. A breath that could be a moan.

You want to kiss him.

You lean forward, the shift in position drawing out a groan from Marty beneath you.

Rust leans forward, too, his eyes searching your face, for what?, lets his hand sink, looks down to your mouth, up to your eyes again. And you kiss him. Aftershave and cigarettes and the smell of wood that's been laying out in the sun. His face is hot against yours, his tongue hard and insistent, like he's still not really giving in, like he can't give up control. You grab his hair, he hisses and pulls away, but you don't let go and it's like something breaks inside him, he goes pliant, scoots closer, his hands in loose fists by his knees.

“Care to let me in on whatever you two got going on back there?” Marty's possessive hands on your hips.

You don't answer, lean forward a little more and kiss Rust again, his hand on your neck now, pulling you closer, then you push yourself off, silencing Marty's indignant "whoa" by reaching back for his thigh, and he understand, gets up, and you're on all fours now, Marty behind you.

You lower your head and take Rust in your mouth, making it nice and wet for him. You look up at him. He's watching you, his fists by his sides tighten. He blinks slowly, once, twice, then his eyes slide shut.

"Jesus, girl, you're something else." Marty has been watching too, tries to sound light but it comes out in a strained voice. He pushes into you quickly and starts fucking you from behind.

There's such bliss in being fucked and feeling completely filled while sucking on Rust's dick at the same time, letting it slide in and out of your mouth, deliberately choking yourself on it from time to time. After a few moments Rust hisses in warning and you pull back. Marty lies down again, you get on top once more. His dick inside you twitches. You lift yourself off of him and spread your legs a little more so Rust has a clear view of Marty being inside you. You want to come.

You catch Rust's eyes, lick your finger and circle your clit. Rust's hand is back on himself and he sighs quietly. You start fucking yourself on Marty, play with your clit, circle it, dip down to gather some more wetness, keep touching yourself, it doesn't take long until you come, you close your eyes for a moment, it feels like heaven. Marty grunts and comes, too, stills under you, his dick pulsing inside you.

Rust has been watching you, closes his eyes, the movement of his hand speeds up for a second and then he bites into the knuckles of his right hand and silently comes all over himself.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the Cowboy Junkies' cover of "Sweet Jane".


End file.
